


Disclose

by flybynight



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 23:56:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5560849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flybynight/pseuds/flybynight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Kirkland had known that upon taking a younger lover, there would be challenges he would have to face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disclose

**Author's Note:**

> pairing: England/America (UKUS), in that order.  
> warnings: light smut, major age difference, angst  
> a/n: So after not writing forever, I came back with... this. Well. Just a short little thing. Please be aware of the warnings above, both parties are of legal age, but just to be safe, if major age differences make you uncomfortable, please do not proceed.

Professor Kirkland had known that upon taking a younger lover, there would be challenges he would have to face. In fact, those very challenges were why it had pained him to even agree to it, knowing deep in his heart that either one or both of them would soon come to regret such a decision. Lust could make a man do almost anything, desire made fools of them all. And love– well, that simply complicated things that much more. For it was lust that made him dive head first into something he knew he shouldn’t have, and love made him never want to leave. It was quite the predicament.

And Alfred, for his part, was of no help. That was par for the course.

Alfred had come to him when he was 10 years old, shipped across the pond by his mother, a very distant relative of Arthur’s by marriage. Arthur had been a strapping 32, fresh from the hallowed halls of university and in the midst of being placed at one of the most prestigious schools in the country as a teacher, rather than a student. He was young, ambitious, and ready to take twelve years of blood, sweat, and tears into building his legacy and becoming head of the archaeology department.

A child being sent into his care, and quite suddenly, threw a bit of a wrench into his plans. Arthur had trained to become a teacher, not a _parent–_ of sorts. But as it turned out, one look at the young American who was to be his apprentice and protege had rendered him entirely incapable of rejecting him. He learned right away, when Alfred had been brought to his home for the first time one late summer afternoon, all shy blue eyes and infectious sweet smiles, that when it came to this child, he could not let go. Forfeiting reason was as natural as breathing.

And Alfred would learn that he was Arthur’s weakness fairly quickly as well. He was a precocious and excitable little boy, mischievous at the worst of times, but eager to please when able. In Arthur’s circle of acquaintances, the boy would be considered of poor stock and breeding, but Arthur knew they weren’t bloody _animals_ and didn’t much care what anyone else thought. Though he did try to raise Alfred with a bit of refinement, as fruitless as his efforts may have been. It turned out that Alfred was still a wonder to him, intelligent and creative, even if manners were lost on him the majority of the time.

He grew up learning the absolute best, flourishing in nearly all fields of study. Arthur’s first real expeditions, Alfred was able to accompany him, and the professor had to confess that sharing such pivotal moments with his young charge had endeared him to the boy forever. Watching Alfred’s eyes light up at every discovery, constantly hanging on every word from Arthur’s lips as he explained and theorized, all of it had made them closer than simply living together could ever have done.

Arthur loved Alfred in the way that any man would their own flesh and blood. Uncomplicated. Simple. Pure adoration.

Then, Alfred turned 19, and Arthur 41. He wasn’t sure when or how it happened exactly, but things became decidedly complicated very quickly, and the facts presented themselves plainly before him, in the form of Alfred accosting him one night after dinner.

They’d been talking of their day, as they always did. Arthur was already reaching his goals as the head of his department at the university, and Alfred, for his part, was beginning his studies there. No longer a young boy, Alfred was a head taller than Arthur now, larger in size and in mind, cutting quite the figure. Arthur had of course admired the way the boy had grown, sprouting up almost immediately after he turned 16 with seemingly no end in sight, becoming a handsome young man with wit that was almost as sharp as Arthur’s. But again, such admiration had been born of pure intentions… or so he had believed.

But that night, talking had turned to arguing. Something that was becoming less and less of a rare occurrence between them. Growing pains, Arthur had thought. And Alfred, intelligent and capable as he was, was almost painfully impulsive. It ran in his blood, made him more of a free spirit that ever edged on restlessness. Alfred wanted to travel more, further, craved independence, wanted to see new things– all well and good, Arthur could admit to a certain degree. Such desires weren’t unhealthy. And Alfred also wanted to finish his schooling early, which inevitably meant he would not be completing his course. The one Arthur had painstakingly carved out for him.

“I don’t want to be an archaeologist,” Alfred said for the first time, fists clenched and red-faced. At one point in time, Arthur would have found the very same countenance on the boy to be charming. But Alfred was not a child anymore. No, not anymore.

“Then what do you want to be? Alfred, you cannot simply quit on a whim, that’s entirely foolish!”

“I can be anything I want to be! And this is one thing I don’t want. I am not you, no matter how much you try to make it so!”

Arthur didn’t think it possible to be more insulted. He’d never wanted for Alfred to be like him– Arthur was, though older and wiser now, not exactly the most pleasant of persons. He certainly had never had the same charms and quirks. It hurt him, both because it was untrue, but also because Alfred didn’t want to be like _him_. Did he resent Arthur? Did he think him unworthy? How long had he been feeling in such a manner?

Arthur wouldn’t find out then. But they kept arguing, and Alfred’s tongue was sharp as he talked of fleeing England, of going elsewhere to pursue his dreams, because Arthur was only holding him back, treating him like a child. Arthur, who had had no idea Alfred had felt this way and was completely taken off guard, cut back defensively, out of pain and the fear that the little boy he had cared for so dearly could possibly think the absolute worst of him.

And somehow, as they stood up from the table, their conversation growing more heated by the moment, something changed in Alfred’s expression, his eyes darkening with emotion and his voice trembling from the effort.

“You just don’t understand! I cannot be here like this with you any longer! It is torture!”

Arthur reared back as though he’d been slapped. “Am I really so awful to you, Alfred? Do you hate me that much?”

“No, you old bastard, I _love_ you! That is the problem!”

Arthur would have kept right on talking, except the world ‘love’ had essentially rendered him speechless for a good long minute, and Alfred was taking heaving breaths as he stared back at him, looking frightened and angry and perhaps not fully aware of what he’d even said until it was too late.

“I’m sorry?” Arthur spoke finally, voice deceptively calm.

“I said I love you,” Alfred replied, mystified.

He still wasn’t sure how to respond to that, a feeling of helplessness and uncertainty pooling in his gut as they just watched each other. Arthur was afraid they might simply stay like that a while, not moving, barely breathing. Words could only get in the way now, and perhaps if they tried hard enough, they could pretend that had not been said?

But being both men of reason, they knew that was not possible. Alfred swallowed, his eyes pained and his hands still shaking a little in a way that made Arthur’s heart ache dreadfully for some reason.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you, these last few years… it felt so impossible, and now,” the young man laughed, almost hysterical, “now I’ve said it. Finally.”

Arthur began carefully, “Alfred. You know of course that I do care for you, very strongly–”

“No,” Alfred cut him off. “No, that is not what I mean, and don’t you _dare_ , Arthur. Do not do what you always do, reason away my thoughts and feelings like I am still a child. I am a man, and I mean exactly what I say. I love you. In every possible way.”

Arthur hadn’t been prepared for that either. He’d hardly even finished his thought, but Alfred knew him too well, knew exactly what he’d been about to say. He winced. Alfred, in return, came closer, crowding into his space, and it felt like a parallel to Alfred’s first coming here, how he had so effectively entered Arthur’s life and changed it wholly and completely, for better or worse, destroying all of Arthur’s defenses and rendering him weak.

“Alfred, this is preposterous… You can’t possibly mean–”

Alfred was not having any of it. “I do.”

“I’m– it’s–” the normally eloquent Professor Kirkland felt embarrassed, ashamed that words continued to fail him and were as flimsy as the excuses he found himself grasping for as Alfred loomed ever closer.

“I’m twice your age, Alfred–”

“I don’t care.”

“Alfred, you–”

“I don’t care!”

And Arthur had to admit, that it was and had always been difficult to argue with too much of Alfred’s logic. He was powerless, just as powerless as he’d always been around eyes of blue and infectious smiles and now, the newly discovered taste of Alfred’s lips as he was backed up against the table and kissed like he’d never been kissed before.

But also that night, Arthur rediscovered something else, mostly about himself. The aforementioned lust that could turn one’s mind in an instant, that could successfully compartmentalize memories of a child whom he cherished from the memories of the man who stood before him, tall and broad and delectable in ways he hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on–because it was easier to admit now, in the heat of the moment, that _oh yes_ , he had noticed, he would have been more of a fool not to notice. Of course.

Over and over they kissed that night, until Alfred had practically begged him to take him to bed. Arthur, to his own disgrace and horror, did not say no. Alfred was inexperienced, eager, and overwhelming, and it was perhaps not the greatest lovemaking he’d ever had, but the most intense he’d never known.

Months passed unabated since the encounter, and Alfred, though placated by having confessed his feelings, had been truthful in saying that he no longer wanted to pursue the same career as his mentor. Instead, he began taking courses in the more mathematical sciences. He would complete school, as Arthur wished, but on his own terms. And who was to say where he would go or what he would do after– Alfred was as ever changing as the wind in his whims and desires, except for the ones that involved Arthur. In that, he was steadfast, stealing kisses during breakfast, clinging to him in the quiet hours after a long day at the university, and naturally warming his bed every or every other night.

It was all terrible and wonderful, a secret that hung heavily between them. The longer he and Alfred continued their clandestine affair, the bolder the younger man became in his affections, despite Arthur advising him of how unwise it would be to alert anyone of the nature of their relationship. Arthur stood to lose everything, from his career to his reputation, and Alfred would certainly be without any grounding to help him succeed in future endeavors if that were to happen.

The only times it didn’t seem to matter were when they were together, locked away in Arthur’s flat, wholly focused on none but each other. But it was in these times, too, that Arthur remembered how complicated it was, that his love for this man could not save him from the inevitable, and could not destroy his anxieties.

Alfred was young. So very young. How could he think things would turn out any other way? How could he ever imagine that Alfred, in all his impetuous, selfish, beautiful youth, could ever truly want to be with him? Alfred had friends, had a life outside these dusty old rooms, beyond these walls that bore witness to their shame every night. Alfred had everything ahead of him and Arthur had nothing more to look forward to, not much more to give. Only the fear that he had effectively destroyed the most important relationship he had ever and would ever come to have, all for the sake of his weaknesses. The thoughts plagued him every moment of every hour.

“Arthur,” Alfred whispered to him one night, as they undressed each other, kissing hotly between each piece of clothing that was removed.

“Arthur, are you all right?”

Arthur looked up, his eyes and hands having been trained quite plainly on his charge’s trousers than anything else. “Yes, of course.”

“You don’t really seem so,” Alfred replied smartly, taking Arthur’s hands in his own and bringing them up to his mouth to kiss at his fingers. The professor inhaled sharply, eyes at half mast as he watched the younger man’s lips. “You seem distracted… I think you’re thinking too much again.”

“Thinking about what?” Arthur said, a bit irritated. He pulled his hands away and instead shoved Alfred towards the bed, sending him sprawling across it. Alfred’s expression faded into amusement, and he gladly made room for Arthur to crawl atop him and between his legs. They kissed, and Arthur hoped it was enough to distract him as he finally got the other’s trousers open. But as he pulled them down Alfred’s long legs, he noticed that he was staring up at him curiously.

“Arthur, truly… what is wrong? You’re looking everywhere but at me,” Alfred murmured, reaching up to touch Arthur’s face. It was too cruel, honestly, the juxtaposition of strength and gentleness in his touches only reminding Arthur of things he didn’t want to remember. Clenching his eyes shut, he rebuffed him, crushing their mouths together to cease any and all inquiries. It worked, for the time being.

Alfred was receptive and open to him, as he always was, the only way he ever was, anymore. As Arthur fitted their bodies together, marking his charge with his teeth, every biting kiss repaid with soft and sensual exhales of pleasure, they fell into one another. Alfred was truly beautiful, from every angle, in every possible way. From the ever-glow of his skin, the curve and clench of his body as he panted, lips red and mouth open deliciously, Arthur’s name on his tongue as he begged with his whole body for release. Ever vocal, he cried out at the touch of Arthur’s hands on his cock, biting down on his fist as his legs were thrown over his mentor’s shoulders and Arthur’s mouth replaced his fingers and by then Alfred’s shouts of pleasure were near deafening.

In those moments, he could almost forget the weary creak of his own bones, the twist and the ache of his body, the hands running through his graying hair as Alfred pleaded for more, _more–_

He could almost forget the _guilt_.

Almost was not quite enough. As he filled and fucked the man beneath him, watched his beautiful face in the throes of passion, he grew disillusioned. Disgusted. Such beauty was not for him. His pace slowed without him noticing, but Alfred did, his hands grasping at Arthur’s shoulders and pulling him down into a kiss that was demanding as it was questioning.

“Arthur, Arthur–” Alfred breathed into his mouth desperately, “please tell me… please tell me.”

“This is wrong, this is all wrong,” Arthur whispered, voice cracking as he kissed the younger man back, thrust slow and deep, excruciatingly so, until they both came to a stop, and his eyes were so blurry that he couldn’t see Alfred as he reached up to cradle his face in his hands.

“It’s not wrong. It’s not,” Alfred argued back, still a bit breathless. But he seemed to be having trouble swallowing around the emotion in his own voice, uncertain and afraid no doubt at Arthur’s behavior, unknowing fully of what Arthur was referring to, but being a smart lad, he had to have had his suspicions.

Arthur could offer him little comfort, though he did turn his face to kiss Alfred’s palm and sigh. “Alfred, I cannot do this anymore… I cannot do this to you anymore.”

“No…”

Arthur was pulled down again into a tight embrace. Alfred was a man, but still so much like the child that Arthur could never truly forget, no matter how much he tried. His lashes were wet with tears.

“Arthur please– please don’t do this.”

“I’m so sorry, my darling. I’ve ruined you. _I’ve ruined you_.”

Silent questions with no answers hung in the heavy silence. Their bodies parted below, but Alfred’s arms remained around him as they both trembled in the dark and Arthur knew they could never go back.


End file.
